Rodeo Rancher by Mary Sullivan

Author:Mary Sullivan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2016-12-19T19:05:42+00:00

Chapter Ten

Stunned, Michael could only stare. What was she talking about? They didn’t need her. He didn’t need her.

Doubts niggled at him, though. Hadn’t he stepped into this house not ten minutes ago and thought it was too quiet?

Hadn’t he dragged his heels walking in knowing that soon those two great kids and their mother would be walking out?

No. He couldn’t do this, couldn’t need them. Couldn’t need her.

He turned his back on Samantha and stormed into the living room.

He heard her say quietly, “Travis, I’m so sorry. Please trust me on this?”

Travis mumbled something, but Michael didn’t catch it.

No wonder. He could barely hear a thing over the roaring in his ears.

Who did Samantha think she was to force herself onto him and his children for another week? He hadn’t invited her. She hadn’t asked. She’d made the decision on her own, meddling yet again.

Both of his children suddenly cheered. Okay, so maybe she wasn’t forcing herself on them. They were happy she was staying.

But didn’t he get a say in this?

Then her children cheered. He didn’t know what she was saying to them other than that it was good news. For them. For him it meant another week of wrestling with demons.

All too aware that this would merely delay the inevitable heartache, he thought maybe they all needed to rip this bandage off and say goodbye today. This very minute.

There was more whispered conversation, but Michael didn’t catch it. Nor did he care about it.

He had half a mind to confront her, to boot her out of his house. Got that? he thought. His house. Not hers. She should have no control over what went on here.

He heard the front door open and close. He heard the children whispering. He heard her voice, soft and husky now, talking to them.

He tapped his knuckles on the fireplace mantel, working hard to control his anger. Control was paramount. It kept him whole and calm. When he had control, his life made sense.

And suddenly Samantha was behind him. He hadn’t heard her enter the room. He sensed her, though. She was there now, not speaking, and barely breathing.

He didn’t know how he could be so aware of her, so in tune with her presence. Where this woman was concerned, he was like a divining rod drawn to water.

“Why didn’t you give your children a Christmas celebration?” she asked softly.

There was not one ounce of reproach in her voice, but guilt hit him like a sucker punch to the gut. He’d known it wasn’t fair, but selfishly he’d wanted to ignore the season. His pain and his grief and his despair had clouded his judgment.

He’d thought his children were young enough not to know the difference or what they were missing. He’d been wrong. So damned wrong.

But he didn’t need this woman, this stranger, to rub his face in his failures.

He loved his children and they loved him. Period.

“Would you tell me what happened?” There was a soft plea in her voice.

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